Songwriter: Joe Budden

[Chorus]
How can you just leave me standing
Alone in a world that's so cold
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father: too bold
Maybe I'm just like my mother
She's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like
When thugs cry

[Verse 1]
Yo, first off I got a seed coming
So I won't even front like I don't need nuttin'
Depending on record sales for me to see somethin'
But if that fall back how the fuck I'm sposed to feed little Budden?
I been to jail before, I been a bum before
But a nigga ain't never had a son before
I dealt with 'caine and fire, I done banged with fighters
But I ain't never changed a diaper, I ain't ready
Ever since I signed niggas been on my back
Like, "Mouse, what up? When I'm getting on the track?"
And so the hood hates me, figured they'd be much kinder
Like, "Joe, congratulations, and we comin' right behind ya"
Everybody in the hood I dap
Says I'm responsible for e'erybody in the hood that raps
They don't like how I do shit, say I changed
I'm the same nigga that y'all went to high school wit'
After all these years still the same drug addict
And it's fucked up, I'm sober with them same drug habits
I still pinch, thief, con and lie
Rob, shoot, difference now is I ain't high
Cats is after me, least I got a crew to warn me
I don't like walking around with this 32 on me
Least my mans is real, least my family's there
Is it worth rap, the answer's yeah, but I don't know

[Chorus]
How can you just leave me standing
Alone in a world that's so cold
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father: too bold
Maybe I'm just like my mother
She's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like
When thugs cry

[Verse 2]
I'm a survivor, I seen darker days
A mama's boy with my father's ways
But I had to see my mom in tears when pop went to the store
For them Newports that he must ain't find in years
My little brother lives in the same state, I ain't know
Shit, I got a little brother, I didn't know that
See I was never told that, if so
I'd of been at the door with a basketball and a Kodak
Love my baby moms to death, she don't believe that
Shit, I ain't never there for her to see that
Don't wanna lose my wiz, begging her to do this bid
Not jail, but this music shit
And I know your family hate me, but we come far
Just us against the world unarmed, me and my girlfriend
Come a time when your mind ain't right and you palm a Luger
And you get used to not being used to
I'm cool with where the Lord place me
But I hold my heat and pray I never have to take it off safety
I pray for all my niggas pitching on the curb
Jersey City'll get the recognition it deserves
I pray for my son, he'll have genes like me
Pray that he don't have to go through everything like me
Pray to God: "Bring out the things I never knew I had in me"
The rest of my mom and dad in me (Uh huh)

[Chorus]
How can you just leave me standing
Alone in a world that's so cold
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father: too bold
Maybe I'm just like my mother
She's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like
When thugs cry

Joe Budden

Joe Budden is from Jersey City, New Jersey. He was born in Spanish Harlem but lived in Queens until he was 12 and from there moved to Jersey City, New Jersey. Budden is one of five boys (one older brother and three younger brothers – two are twin brothers). Budden heard music in his home (his father is a multi-instrumentalist) and on the streets while he grew up.

He is also one quarter of Slaughterhouse, alongside fellow rappers Royce da 5’9”, Joell Ortiz, and Crooked I.